the one

There’s a new stud horse in the Staff Caff, and I am beyond myself as to how I might adequately relay the magnitude of his awesomeness. As his name escapes me at this time, let’s call him Neo.

Neo is certainly not fucking around with those tightly-knit cornrows and gold fronts that flash before the unsuspecting luncher every time he smiles, which is often and without irony. In fact, it appears that for reasons unbeknownst to Caffers (his last job involved corporal punishment, perhaps?), he is genuinely happy to be here, despite never-ending commentary from Liz the Cafeteria Lady and impossibly bad jokes from Dave the Sandwich Guy ("New England clam chowda, get it? Chowda!!!”) Neo wants to know how I’m doing, and even says goodbye when I leave. Neo is my everything.

Last week, Neo created a perfectly proportioned tuna fish, cucumber and swiss sandwich on whole grain bread that he recommended be toasted for maximum enjoyment. Then, this mofo cut my sandwich in fourths diagonally and inserted a tiny wooden stick in each unit. Finally, he exited the lunch line and served my ass, tableside.

I know.